


Lighthouse

by sanguinity



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Gen, post-s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:31:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguinity/pseuds/sanguinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People who are in grief come to Mary Watson like birds to a lighthouse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lighthouse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beanarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanarie/gifts).



> Originally posted at [tumblr](http://sanguinarysanguinity.tumblr.com/post/106856065428/lighthouse).

Over tea and _ezi jian_ at Mary’s kitchen table, Joan winds to the end of her story about the jewel thief she caught after their previous luncheon. It’s a good story, and well-told, but the continuing tension in Joan's eyes and shoulders is worrying. Mary was never clear on how close Joan and Mycroft actually were, but the way Joan has consistently reached for amusing stories since his passing doesn’t feel like the usual black humor that often follows a funeral. 

“I’m glad to hear the business has been thriving,” Mary says, and means it. Hard work is a balm in difficult times, and Joan is luckier than most to have work she loves. “I never doubted you would be able to handle things in Sherlock’s absence.” Joan’s answering smile is wary — she obviously hears the subject change coming — but it’s a mother’s prerogative to ask, and Joan hasn’t been volunteering. “And how are you?” Her tone is compassionate, but brooks no deflection. 

“I’m fine,” Joan hastens to reassure her. Mary watches her daughter cast about for a corroborating detail. When she fails to find one, her shrug is wry and eloquent. “I’m… fine.” 

Mary nods; she lived the paradox of _fine_ and _not-fine_ for years after divorcing Hui. She freshens Joan's tea and then her own; Joan taps her fingers against the table in thanks. “And Sherlock?” Mary prods. Sometimes her daughter is more willing to talk about others than herself. Something has been off these past weeks, something more than simple grief, and Mary wouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that Joan has been suppressing her own feelings in deference to her business partner’s. Under all that bright charm, Sherlock has always struck Mary as the prickly sort. 

Mary’s teacup is halfway to her mouth when she recognizes that Joan is readying a lie. Mary’s eyebrows shoot up in warning — the _young lady_ is implicit — and whatever Joan was about to say dies on her lips. 

Joan sighs. “I don’t know,” she confesses. “I haven’t heard from him.” 

“Busy with his brother’s estate?” 

“Probably. There’s several Michelin-star restaurants. The one here, of course, another few in London. Paris.” There’s an odd catch in the way she says Paris, and Mary narrows her eyes. “I expect it’s been chaos just trying to keep them all going, but he has to find a buyer, too.” 

Out in the world, Joan is an excellent liar — to Mary's everlasting exasperation, Joan entertained herself in school by spinning tall tales to her teachers — but Mary knows Joan’s tells. “You two had a falling out,” she suggests. 

Joan’s quick glance is confirmation. Mary purses her lips: people never change, but they should know better than to strike out at each other in their grief. At least now she understands why Joan didn’t go to England for the funeral. 

It takes only a few moments for Joan to fold. Or rather: a few moments, and the five weeks it took to get here. “He left a note,” Joan says, her voice suddenly young with hurt and confusion. Mary is reminded of the long year that Joan was fourteen, helping Mary with dinner in the wake of every broken heart. “He dissolved our partnership with a note, and I can’t get him to return my calls.” 

“Tell me what happened,” Mary urges, and makes a mental note to ask specifically about Paris.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Lighthouse (The Lost in the Fog Extended Mix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4036594) by [time_converges](https://archiveofourown.org/users/time_converges/pseuds/time_converges)




End file.
